Scientific Endeavor
by Dodectron
Summary: A photographer called Alice; a scientist called Harry. Follow them as they eke out a partnership which will strain every last nerve and shred of goodwill that life has so far allowed to survive. Rated T for possible, eventual strong language.
1. Pencils

**AN: A simple, fun story I can write when I have nothing better to do. The more astute readers may already know what this story is about, but if so, please don't post a review with an explanation; let everyone figure it out on their own.**

**Thanks for reading, hope to see you again soon. -D**

* * *

_Report Number: 213_

_Date: 21/2/13_

_Location: In the depths of scientific endeavor._

_Time: 1:30 PM_

_Title: My Services Requested_

_Data: Contact has been established between myself and an enterprising individual with absolutely no illustrious background whatsoever. After lengthy discussion, as detailed in Report No. 164, agreement formed as to our similar goals._

_Seven cups of coffee consumed during 'adult discussion'. Will not take responsibility for sixteen pencils now beyond recognition after contact expressed their nervousness through impressions on said pencils. EDIT: For future reference, 'impressions' may be defined as marks left by contact's sadly-abused molars._

_Will continue to research violent storms located over major oceans, and therefore impacts on marine ecosystem. Contact insisted on my continued studying of the colloquially-termed 'whale song' at depths which no ordinary wailord could reach, but I remain unconvinced. Possible funds from successful conclusion will not cover the pressure-induced crushing of expensive lab equipment._

_Absolutely refused to waste credits on investigating possible origins of Shamouti Islander legends. EDIT: For future reference, no shaky camera footage of something on fire falling from the sky and weird echoing squeaks will ever convince me of so-called 'titans' having something to do with the homoeostasis of the entire planet's water system._

_Agreed to meet again. Will attempt to not tear hair from head while considering the next demands of unprofessional contact._

_Conclusion: Meeting concluded. Will continue to detail clauses of agreement over future meetings._

_Additional information: I hate my life._

* * *

She jumped as, again, a door was allowed to slam shut somewhere deeper within the bowels of the lab.

If there was something she hated about these meetings- or something she most hated, since none of it was giving her any warm, fuzzy feelings- it was being shut inside of a dead, steel room. There wasn't a single pokémon in sight. She couldn't hear the gentle tip-tapping of the early spring rain, or smell one of those deliciously flower-scented breezes either, heavy with essence a'la bellossom.

Not that she sneezed violently at the mere suggestion of such pollenated air. She was sniffling because... well... something got in her eye?

One of the passing scientists took pity on her. She nodded vigorously as he gave her directions and smiled until her lips were aching. "Thank you, thank you!"

Alice hated this place. She hated dead things. She made sure her feet stamped down loudly on the metal as she walked, drawing several angry or merely curious stares.

Funny how he'd somehow managed to fit her into his 'busy' schedule after she'd found _it_. The thing she hid in her shirt, refused to let him document or take pictures of. It never warmed against her skin, didn't dull with time or shine after vigorous rubbing. The edges cut into her soft skin whether Alice moved or not, but she had eventually gotten used to it. If anything, the cold made her feel good even inside of the dead lab. Nothing that was really dead could stay cold next to a warm body. It _lived_.

She allowed her hand to loosely hold itself over the invisible imprint of the trophy. Alice almost regretted that small comfort when she saw the barely-restrained eagerness in _his_ eyes as he stared at her hand, opened the door and beckoned her in.

"So," the whitecoat began, seating himself in his oversized office chair. Alice let herself sink down on a leather-seated chair opposite his desk. Now away from prying eyes- aside from _his_- she let her hands pull it from her shirt, caressing over the delicate silver vanes, the sharp quill tip and the brilliantly shining feather tips.

He swallowed audibly at the sight. Alice shot a glare at him. It felt good to see him recoil, even if it was slight and only visible in the way he pushed his greasy fringe over his eyes.

"So. Last time we met, we discussed actually working together in the field. You absolutely refused, which leaves us at an impasse. You have not presented evidence as to why I should trust you take this mission seriously, and-"

"Are you kidding?!" Alice stood so she could stamp her jogger-shod foot.

The silver in her hands warmed slightly as it sensed her incensed emotions. Her hands shook as she laid it carefully on her vacated seat. The scientist waited impatiently for her to finish. "Am I kidding about what?"

"Are you- are you kidding about not trusting me? I know you don't, obviously, since you never give me written instructions on how to find your office-"

"I know your type, you'd probably break in to steal my research-"

"-And I know that all you want is my Silver Wing!"

He scowled at her. "Ridiculous. That cannot be genuine, and even if it is, what it can do is only explained in one of those Shamouti Islander legends. There is no evidence-"

"Shut up! It's real!" Alice burst out vehemently.

They glared at each other. She slowly pulled a pencil from her mouth, dripping with spit, and laid it on his desk. He sneered in disgust and pulled a rubbish bin out for her to roll it into. "There are healthier ways of dealing with stress, little Alice. Your teeth will not thank you for chewing on my pencils every time we meet- and how did you get this, anyway? I put all of them in my-"

"Top drawer. Behind the stapler."

His eyebrow twitched before he stop it. Amusement. Alice smiled inside, but kept her frown up and ready for action.

"And I am_ not_ little."

Having finished their introductory argument, Alice and Harry settled more comfortably into their opposing roles and even graced the other with a mutual grin. She dropped the Wing back down her shirt as she sat again.

Just to be safe.


	2. Coffee

_Report Number: 220_

_Date: 28/2/13_

_Location: Office_

_Time: 2:23 AM_

_Title: Request for Extra Security Personnel_

_Data: __**######################################**_

_**################################################## ##**_

_**############**_

_**###########################.**_

_(Words have been re-written and scratched out so many times, they are now illegible.)_

_I would like to submit this request for an increased quota of security personnel, to be stationed within the main science facility for a nocturnal work shift._

_This is because __**################################################## #########**_

_Because __**#######################**_

_Please consider my humble request. For public safety._

* * *

He wasn't happy. A powerful hateful vibe crackled through the atmosphere like lightning, strengthening his hand as he tossed a newspaper to the floor. Alice, nerves tightly wound as she stood frozen on the pavement, started at the loud 'slap'.

"You."

She hadn't brought it today. Somehow, her skin missed the icy presence of her lucky charm.

Tiny scars tingled in the chilled air.

"You. You... you!"

He had taken a step towards her. She felt her limbs come back to life by degrees, but like a horrible nightmare, she was still frozen stiff to the spot.

"I-"

"No! You're not allowed to talk now! You have no right! You little..._ thief_!"

Alice scowled, a thick strand of chestnut hair falling across her forehead, out of the stockpile under her fluffy beanie. "I am NOT a thief. I was just-"

"Just _what_?!" he snarled.

"Just... making a map. I-I don't want to look for your office for _ages_ again like last-"

"_Fine_ then! You know what?"

Alice bit her lip and drew her arms protectively around her waist. It was _too_ cold. Nothing like her precious wing.

Harry's eyes darted over her bare arms. His lip curled in disgust. _"Don't bother."_

She wasn't immobile now. Yet, something else kept her feet stuck in the exact same position _he_ had found them in when he had unexpectedly ventured outside for some coffee. Directly in front of his door. The metallic, _closed_ door.

Harry had locked it. He wasn't going to come out, and she wasn't going to go in. Not ever. He'd given up on her.

On the mission, she meant.

No more pencils, no more arguing, not a single uncomfortably tense meeting in this armpit of a laboratory.

Alice reached out and laid her fingers on the handle. Like everything else here, it was shiny and metallic. She hesitated once. Then, with a determined nip at her bottom lip, the girl pushed down and out.

The door didn't move. He'd locked it.

Of course Harry had locked it. She'd heard him do it.

Alice felt the sudden gap between them like a physical blow. Why was she so affected by this? She should be happy. There had to be thousands of scientists in this building alone who would be interested in her mission, all of them easier to get along with than the stuck-up twat hiding in his sterile room.

The itching on her chest intensified. She could almost feel the scratches left by the wing vibrating, shifting invisibly back and forth until she blew her breath out with a huff and sat.

Sat on the cold floor, bare arms wrapped around bent-up knees, head forced into her triangular huddle. Alice could feel a shiver coming on. The kind that shakes you to your bones, makes you tremble hard enough to blur vision.

Alice set her teeth hard in her jaw and tightened her grip.

The shakes could wait as long as she did.

That was how he found her.

Bare-armed, beanie a forgotten puddle of wool on the floor as she stared emptily into space. She was so pale. Not an inch of skin was spared goosebumps, and her limbs shook as if having a fit. Harry forgot what Alice had done the night before and rushed to give her a blanket, a microwaved cup of the coffee he hadn't drunk the night before, to draw her into his office and turn up the heat until he was feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

Alice didn't move or acknowledge his efforts. She sat, empty-eyed and frighteningly chalky-white, on his single leather couch. Harry sat next to her and wrapped a long, warm arm over her shoulders.

She finally reacted.

"W... wha..."

A slender hand reached to her shirt, pulled, prodded- didn't find whatever they were looking for. Alice's eyes opened and she stared unknowingly into Harry's face. Some strange kind of fear flashed over her features and, inexplicably, she pushed into his chest and trembled as if exhausted. The deep shaking had gone; Harry felt oddly comforted by these gentler shivers, and rubbed his hand up and down her back in the same way his father had once done after a bad night's sleep.

They sat together for a while, Alice hiding in the white folds of his coat, Harry cautiously giving her every ounce of warmth he could.

By the time the sun had risen and the air was no longer frigid as Articuno's breath, Alice had gone.

And Harry's fury had gone with her.


	3. Purrloin

_Report number: 233_

_Date: 12/3/13_

_Location: Coffee Shop_

_Time: 10:00 PM_

_Title: Daily Report on Nothing_

_Data: This researcher does not know why he bothers with the Alice girl. She has clearly proven herself to be irresponsible, dull-witted and incapable of logical thought. No suitable companion- or even assistant- for a scientist of my learning. She still claims to have proof of the existence of something most researchers dismiss as a legend. Including myself._

_I am unsure of why I agreed to begin this venture in the first place._

_There's no possible way she could be right._

_Please ignore two previous sentences. Unnecessary to this Daily Report._

_This day, I have been on an excursion with the Alice girl. She has shown to have some little skill with a camera. I am astounded that she has any value in any useful scientific field._

_I would like to register personal injury sustained from contact with Alice._

_I retract my previous statement under extreme protest._

* * *

It had begun with a cool, delightfully tasty layer of mist that sparkled and dissipated under a rising, golden sun. The pidgeys were particularly cheerful this morning, and let the pidoves come to feast on thrown bread crumbs without protest.

Alice was already awake, of course.

It was one of her rituals, to wake before the sun and see it come up above the mountain range to the East. She would sit on her bed, blankets crumpled over her legs and precious silver wing in clasped hands, gazing through a crack in her blinds. If she was quiet, still as a statue, some mornings she could watch the sun rise without waking Pa.

Breakfast was always fast, always less than she would have liked. They didn't have the money for heat; a nut bar was the best she could chew on her way to the local park.

Early morning was the best. The pokémon weren't so afraid to come out and bask in the first rays of the sun during this precious band of time; trainers didn't come out to fight or 'play' until nine.

She even had one that she almost dared to call 'friend'.

There it was; the black-matted violet fur of the purrloin that lived in the nearby wildlands. He was a tom, and battle-scarred. The quietly resting pokémon faded into the tall grass that lined the park whenever it visited. The scrawny purrloin sniffed the air, cautiously ignoring Alice, and lifted its tail to mark something some other predator had claimed.

The girl pawed through a tiny knapsack hidden under her hair. She didn't have much, today.

The purrloin wandered over to her knee, still refusing to lay eyes on her, and delicately scented the lump of dried meat she had dropped on the pavement.

Alice held her breath.

It picked up the morsel, turned its filthy head and looked directly at Alice. She snapped a picture, laid the camera down, and smiled. The purrloin stared for a moment; it then dashed away as if stung, disappearing in a bound of purple fur.

The girl laid back on the park bench, allowing her muscles to finally relax in the relative safety of this empty park. The silence, the lack of watching, observing eyes; it felt very good.

Hollow footsteps echoed from around the bricked boundary wall of the park. Alice sat back up, eyes straight ahead, didn't glance to see who it was.

Please don't look at me.

The walker came closer.

Those footsteps were very dull. You could tell a lot about someone from how they walked.

Trainers liked to dash everywhere. They wore special shoes that _thudded_ every time they took a step, like whoopee cushions without a hole for the air to escape through. Children were light, rapid, _pitter-patter_ over the concrete and then _crinch-crunch_ as they chased each other over the grass and mulch beneath the playground equipment.

These ones were measured. Even. Calculated.

Adults, especially ones with high-paying jobs- the rich, snobby kind- wore shoes that either squeaked or sounded like tap-dancing.

Pa didn't wear shoes.

The footsteps stopped by her chair.

"What are you doing here?"

"...Harry?"

"Yes, me. Alice. Why are you here? Isn't it early for a mouth-breather to be out and about?"

He sounded as sarcastic as ever. Alice leapt to her feet and punched his arm. Her fist was gentler because she was cold, not because she was grateful for it to only have been Harry.

"I happen to _live_ here. What are _you_ doing here? Spying on me?"

He stared at her in that blank way that made her want to do more than lightly smack him.

"...You live in a park?"

Alice faltered. Oh. Whoops. "No. I meant nearby. Anyway, um, what are you doing here? Aren't you allergic to nature or something?"

"Hmph," he hmphed, straightening the glasses balancing on the tip of his nose. "I have some important work to do here. Sampling the local flora, if you must know. Very important work."

"Huh," she mused, wrapping her arms around his elbow because she knew how much he hated it. "Funny..."

Harry attempted to subtly shake his arm free. She tightened her grip and pulled down slightly, yanking him off-balance. Gritting his teeth, the scientist stared straight ahead and ignored her childishness. "What. Is Funny."

"I just so happen to be _working_ here, too. Lots of... um... photos to be taken." As proof, she presented her camera.

Harry glanced at it with more than slight interest. "Photographs?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "Duh. Forgotten why we work together?"

"Just surprised. I didn't know you actually practised taking pictures. Actually, I should have requested that at the last meeting; I'm not taking you to any ancient temples or scientific expeditions without you proving your worth."

She smacked him again. "Blah blah blah. I'll show you what I can do. I'm a photograph master!"

"So... prove it," he smiled sweetly.

And so she did.

All day long.

They didn't actually kill each other, but it did come pretty close.

Alice was sure to keep a close eye over him as he typed out his daily report. Some things scientists said- why, they were simply hurtful! And completely untrue.

Just because she had accidentally pressed the take-a-picture button after a wingull had evacuated its facilities all over her camera lens...


	4. Tournament

_Report Number: 240_

_Date: 12/10/13_

_Location: Local sports Stadium_

_Time: 9:30 PM_

_Title: Observations on Alice_

_Data: I have had a lack of research material recently; with the national tournaments drawing near, there has been far too much gossip and excitement over the local favourites for me to work even if I was weighed down by research requests._

_The investigation which my associate Alice began has not yet drawn to a close. We are at a standstill, what with the recent storms which have grounded all aircraft. If not for the hurricane winds, we may have been able to study a temple that has caught my particular interest, but that plan has been put on hold._

_Do you know what she wanted to do while we waited?_

_Guess where I am right now._

* * *

She sucked fiercely on her straw, ignoring the rapsy bubble of her emptying drink. Her eyes were fixed down on the open sand, the cornered oval with its distinctive rectangle of white paint and the pokeball design in its centre.

He wondered where her passionate arguments against pokémon captivity and 'cockfighting' had gone.

They were sitting together in the middle of a crowded block of tired-looking adults, eager teenagers with their toy pokeballs held in sweaty fists, overworked vendors screaming their wares as they negotiated around carelessly outslung legs. The atmosphere was excited, but it was a mute excitement. The air was too thick for comfort. He wiped a stray droplet of sweat from his forehead and leaned back in the creaky plastic chair with a sigh.

"How did you convince me to come here again?"

Alice flashed him a grin. Her camera had magically reappeared in her hands. "I didn't convince anyone. You were bored, remember?"

He watched as she weaved to and fro like an ekans, camera held in front of her face as she tried to get a good shot of the struggling pokémon below. She must have abandoned her empty drink between the next aisle of seats. "You're not gonna get a good picture from up here. We're too high up, you know," Harry muttered.

Alice paused and looked at him. She smiled.

His stomach plummetted.

"_Why_ are we down _here_? _Are you insane_?" Harry hissed.

She scowled and bade him be silent; this was tricky. He could only watch in stunned disbelief as she carefully levered herself between two security lasers and into the shallow alcove from which the competing trainers exited onto the battlefield.

"Just keep a look-out, okay? I won't be a second." She wasn't even looking at him. Harry shuffled his feet, wringing his fingers around each other as subtly as he could manage. This was so stupid! They were going to be caught! He'd be fired for trespassing somewhere no scientist would ever have a reason to go!

"Aliiiice..." Harry whispered desperately.

She was already gone. He leaned against the wall and stared at his shiny black shoes.

She was going to be the death of him. No, the _unemployment_ and _then_ the death of him. Harry wondered if he could even ask himself 'why' anymore. He didn't seem to act or think logically when the stupid girl was involved. He should have called the police the moment he'd caught her breaking and entering. What had she done _that_ one for, again?

Oh, right. To make a map. So she wouldn't get lost.

That definitely didn't sound criminal.

It seemed that he'd waited for half an hour before she finally came back, cheeks flushed with success. She looked far too happy. "Got the pictures! The RSPCP will have a field day with these! Come on, let's go."

Alice somehow dove between the laser sensors without activating them, seized his wrist and took off on a lolloping canter through the hallways.

"W...w-wait! What!? Waaaaait!" he yelped as they slammed into a very surprised security guard. He didn't think the guard had managed to see their faces before Alice had dragged him around the next corner. He hoped.

"Alice! Slow the heck down! ALICE!"

She finally responded to his shout and slowed down. They were next to the bathrooms; Harry took the moment to rest, gasping, holding thick-rimmed glasses to his sweat-slippery nose. She huffed, not happy with his lack of athlete's physique. "You need to get out of your office more, man. You've got less endurance than a slakoth."

He glared from under his oily black fringe. "Y...you... take... th-that... back."

The girl smirked and gripped his wrist tightly again. "Not on your life. Ready for round two?"


	5. Distance

_Report number: 256_

_Date: 12/11/13_

_Location: The middle of Nowhere_

_Time: 11:36 AM_

_Title: Back on Track_

_Data: Myself and the Alice girl have finally begun our investigation properly. Our first destination is somewhere out in the famous archipelaego, on a tiny island inhabited by a tribe of people distantly related to those of Shamouti. I still claim significant incredulity at the legends sported by those people, but perhaps the paintings left by their ancestors hold some seed of truth without the distinct sheen of desperation for tourists their descendants hold so dear._

_She seems happy. Something here speaks to her, I think. Maybe Alice will consider a future in science one day, when she grows out of being such a brat._

* * *

It was the day, now. Finally.

They'd spent too long planning and arguing without any real progress, in his opinion. They weren't spending so much time together to be _friendly_, after all. The word felt sour in his throat. He didn't need any of those. They just got in the way at the worst of times.

Like her. But she wasn't his friend.

Harry shook himself and wiped his glasses on a corner of his white shirt. The soft cream was a soothing sight after the hours he'd spent staring down at the ocean below. The grey, silver-ripped ocean, reaching up to bat them down from the sky with the unbroken faces of those enormous black waves.

His glasses fogged up again. Damn, was it that warm in here?

"Hey- hey, Harry?" A hand plucked at his sleeve. The only reason he wasn't hunched miserably in his window-seat. Alice wasn't taking the trip any better than he was. Probably worse, in fact. Neither of them were suited for travel by air. Harry wiped the small smirk from his face and looked down his nose at the peaky girl by his side.

"Yeees?" He had to fight another grin down at her downright grumpy expression.

"I need to go. Are we going to be there soon?"

It was times like then when he was reminded of how young she really was. She often looked older than she actually was, though she looked like a fifteen-year-old. How could someone so young even know what real value was in ancient artifacts like her precious wing?

"Uhm... I mean, er, I think so. Yes." He coughed into a sleeve. Her duckface was a little too adorable.

"Well, as soon as you figure it out, mind telling it to me straight?" she muttered. Her feet were pulled up and onto the seat, probably illegally. Harry was suddenly reminded of her sitting in the same method somewhere else, earlier that year. Cold and alone, in front of _his_ door.

"It shouldn't be too long," he decided. His arm went around her shoulders, steadying them both in the bucking seats of the helicopter. She gave him a weird look, but seemed to settle a little better into the wrinkled depths of his white sleeve.

* * *

"Woooow. This is so cool!"

Alice was gushing. Again. She'd never seen anything like these untidy old scratches before. Harry had seen several photographs of ancient cave paintings in earlier investigations, but even the real deal didn't look any better than the fingerpaintings he'd witnessed children crumpling in their sticky little fists.

The people showing them the caves weren't any more impressive. The guide seemed intent to show them the best views of the dreary grey ocean and the most succulent rotten fruit his people had to offer.

His companions didn't say a word. Simply watched with their blank, dark eyes.

Alice was too easily impressed. "I hope I have enough film... wait, are we there yet?" she asked, blinking at him owlishly.

"No. This isn't what we came here for," Harry ground out.

"This is the cave art, yes, the art," the guide chirped. "You happy, yes?"

"No. This isn't what we came here for."

The guide's companions glanced at each other. Just a quick glance, eyes flickering in the torchlight, but it was enough. Harry marched from his secluded corner to stand in front of the almost blatantly indigenous man. Did they train people to sound this ridiculous? "I am a scientist from the mainland. We came here under the understanding that we would be given access to _the_ paintings. The ones of the three legendary pokémon, the three birds."

The guide looked doubtful. Alice looked like she was watching a tennis match; to the guide, to Harry, and back.

"Mister, please, they are good paintings. Genuine. They are not good enough?" The man was fidgeting under his stare. His upper lip curled back, and Harry pulled away. He didn't have the patience for this.

Alice, miraculously, came to the rescue. "Listen, we need to see the special artworks. It's essential for our mission! Er, I mean, his study and my, um, assistance. Please?"

The three natives weren't impressed. Not until she took _it_ out. Then, they looked terrified.

It looked even more magnificent in the dusty, grimy cave than it had under his brilliant office light. Each perfect vane, the little curve on the tip, every inch of it brilliant silver. The indigenous seemed ready to fall to their knees at the sight of it. The guide walked to Alice- working desperately not to trip, it seemed- and firmly pushed the wing back into her shirt and out of sight.

"...We show you. Keep _that_ away."

Alice nodded timidly. Their display had not been lost on her.

Harry followed them from a slight distance, hoping his presence wouldn't snap the natives out of whatever funk the wing had thrown them into. If he'd known they'd snap to attention at the sight of a little silver, earlier research here would have taken a lot less time.

The girl clutched her camera to herself, working to keep from grasping her precious trophy. What was she about to discover? What was about to happen?

Neither she nor Harry could keep from gasping in shock at the sight of the next cavern.


	6. Mystery

**Thank you for the watches and reviews. I will answer a few questions here, so please read before continuing.**

**1. This story is for practice and for enjoyment. I started it with short, around 1000-word-length chapters and I will probably continue to do so, or it may not get finished.**

**2. Thank you very much for the feedback as to this story. I appreciate it, and I always check over it thoroughly to make sure I'm writing what you guys want to read.**

**3. This story has a definite direction, but any ideas suggested as to the storyline may be incorporated in the future. We're around three fifths of the way through what I've got planned, so if nothing else occurs to me, we'll be finishing up soon.**

**Thanks for reading, please enjoy the new chapter.**

* * *

_Report number: 257_

_Date: 12/11/13_

_Location: Ancient Art Museum_

_Time: 12:01 PM_

_Title: A Little Too Quiet_

_Data: Something very strange is happening, and I am not sure that my scientific observations will have much effect on my understanding of what's going on. As far as I know, there isn't much properly documented precedent for what just happened to Alice. She... I don't know. It has something to do with that Wing, though, and I just want to know what the connection might be between it and the mysterious figure._

* * *

The paintings on the wall had to be thousands of years old. Older than anything he had ever seen; in the of pre-civilization era.

Yet their beauty was something incredible to behold. Startling detail, never-fading colours, the depictions of pokémon and humankind together in war and in peace. Human figures kneeled by neatly-ordered campfires, surrounded by small figures of pidgey and other commonplace pokémon marked by brightly coloured collars.

Yet this was not what interested him. Over all of the figures, living together in relative harmony on their islands and oceans, flew three mighty figures.

A light blue creature flared its wings in a flurry of white flecks, an immaculate snowflake design etched deeply around its body.

A bright yellow pokémon, spiked in wing-feather, tail and plumage, rained lightning bolts down from the sky.

A creamy-gold bird was depicted with flaming wings before the rising sun, shining brighter and hotter than the burning star itself.

And there, beneath the ocean, a black figure lurked.

This was what fascinated him. His fingers lay gently on the heavy black ochre used by those ancient people to hide the ocean-lurker. Only its eyes were not blacked-out, two intensely bright blue-white polygons angled down on either side of its curved head.

Something of this reminded Harry of a censor. They had chosen to hide the beast beneath the ocean, like the ship captains of old that had felt it necessary to perform superstitious rituals- such as throwing food overboard to please some prehistoric terror.

What had frightened these ancient people into hiding away their greatest secret? Why display the three elemental birds- pokémon he had personally studied, seen documented footage of, pokémon he _knew_ existed- but only outline this apparently 'greater' being?

Harry tapped his finger on the cipher. It was silent.

A smaller hand rose alongside his and caressed the stone. He flinched his fingers away, stepping back and away. Alice didn't notice his abrupt movement. She was gazing at the central picture, the three great titans flying over their kingdom and the blackened beast that hid beneath the waves. She seemed almost... hypnotized.

"The three... tamed the beast of the sea... alone... the beast?" she murmured.

Her hand went to the precious wing, beneath her shirt, as always. Harry watched from the opposite wall. Something kept him there. It felt... he felt something. He shouldn't interrupt her thoughts.

Alice pulled it from the depths of her clothing and held it loosely in her hands. It seemed to _glow_ in the dim cave-light. Harry had never seen her grasp it so gently before; she had always been so desperate to keep it safe, so careful not to drop it or let it be taken from her.

And then, the silver wing flashed. It flashed brightly, white hot, like a magnesium flare, and he was blinded. Harry rubbed his eyes, cursing.

Eventually the flare faded away- and he could see _her_.

Standing before the carving, silver wing _abandoned_ at her feet like so much garbage. Hands planted firmly over two scuffed, ruined patches of the paintings, placed- now that he was paying attention- equally on either side of the main carving. To his astonishment, Harry noticed that the black beast was _glowing_. Its white eyes flashed like the gem of an injured staryu, a mysterious blue line outlining its body.

Alice whispered something to the painting, and the white eyes of the ocean beast flashed again in response. Then she took her hands away, and the cave grew dim again. The wing- so beautifully silver, so perfectly shaped- shook on the ground upon which it had been abandoned. The sharp edges dulled before his eyes, frayed and melted away into nothing. Within seconds, the silver wing was no more.

His last lifeline to the mission was gone.

Harry sat heavily against the wall. His legs didn't work. He didn't want them to work. He wanted to sink into the floor. He wanted to wake up and find that everything was just a bad dream.

Alice stepped away from the carving. She turned to look at him- and, in the depths of his grief, Harry was startled. She was... _smiling_?

"I have found it," she said slowly and succinctly. "I have found him."

"Him?" Harry said stupidly.

"The guardian of the sea. The tamer of the Beast. He knows me, and I have found him."

It was fair to say that she was glowing now, too.


End file.
